


of soap suds and broken dishes

by Hesesols



Series: The Rapture in the Mundane [4]
Category: Bleach
Genre: 686 who?, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Humor, all is well
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:07:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25810084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hesesols/pseuds/Hesesols
Summary: Part of Ichiruki month 2020 celebration.What to expect when you're expecting- the Ichiruki edition. Drabble-fic.
Relationships: Kuchiki Rukia/Kurosaki Ichigo
Series: The Rapture in the Mundane [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1872595
Comments: 36
Kudos: 55
Collections: Ichiruki Month!, Ichiruki week





	1. Timing Is Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day **9** of Ichiruki month 2020
> 
> There will never be a right time for some conversations. In which Rukia has some exciting news to deliver and the timing is ... less than ideal.

.

Her hands started shaking even before her mind processes the gravity of the situation.

The plus sign on the pregnancy test stick is staring right back at her and no amount of heavy breathing; thigh-pinching; fervent prayer that this is all a bad dream she's ten seconds from waking up from; is going to change that.

She gulps.

Ichigo.

Ichigo needs to know.

She needs to tell him and part of her is scared shitless of what he's going to say.

.

.

She doesn't tell him.

It's not intentional on her part- at least for the first few days after she found out.

It just slips her mind sometimes about her new condition and then there's the fact that she could never seem to find the right time to tell him. This doesn't feel like the sort of thing that is light enough to be shared over the breakfast table or when they're cuddling in bed with their bedclothes on, mind switched off, body wrapped around each other.

Outside these hours, their lives are bound to the vigorous demands of the mundane world and its limitations. Time is finite in this world. Him with his busy university classes and lab sessions, her with her odd shifts at the local coffee shop and double-life as a seated officer of Gotei 13 meant that dinner is sometimes take outs and pizzas served on cheap plastic plates, wine in everyday mugs, excuses they make to ignore the presence of the growing pile of dirty dishes in the sink.

That there are mornings when Ichigo will jump out of their bed with a curse and start throwing on wrinkly clothes from the day before, screaming about how he's late as he shuts the front door with a bang that's loud enough to rattle the whole building but not before he rouses her, barely awake and squinting from the brightness with a goodbye kiss.

That there are nights when she will come back after a week-long stint in Soul Society and the ache of separation hits her more than she would care to admit but Ichigo leaves the light on. He greets her with his pretty eyes and hungry kisses and they'll spend that morning and the next in bed, making up for the lost time in the coil of their needy bodies.

This is a snapshot of real life for the two of them living together in relative anonymity in the Human World. She loves Ichigo and he loves her. Society has come a long way since feudalistic times and what Nii-sama doesn't know won't hurt him.

.

Take away the Shinigami aspect of their lives- the crazy out-of-this-realm misadventures they get swept into, wars between worlds waged and won in the span of a summer holiday, the battle scars adorning their bodies and they're literally as normal as their next door neighbours, human and barely out of their twenties, trying to find their place in this strange cruel world, somehow made warmer with Ichigo's hand in hers.

Being with Ichigo just makes her happy- happy enough to live in the now and not think ahead. She doesn't want to ruin what they have, doesn't want to upset the resemblance of a normal life she's constructed and cocooned herself in within the confines of their tiny apartment.

They haven't even talked about the future in so much as to where they would live after he graduates from college. Springing this on him just seems cruel- cruel when his life is only just beginning, about to take flight and she's gone ahead and done the unthinkable to clip his wings.

What if he's disappointed?

.

_What if he doesn't want the baby?_

.

The last thought renders her physically sick. Sud-covered hands reach instinctively for her baby bump that's barely showing.

For now, anyway.

.

Give it a few more weeks and he's bound to notice something. He's not that dumb (or at least she hopes he isn't). There are only so many times she can say no to the casually-offered beer and wine or mumble something along the lines of that time of the month to disguise the however many trips to the bathroom before he catches on.

.

.

.

"I'm home."

The sudden noise makes her jump and she loses her grip on the slippery half-washed dinner plate. It clatters to the floor, broken.

.

_Shit!_

.

Swearing comes entirely second nature when she cuts herself on the edges.

"Rukia?"

"In here," she calls out to him, holding the cut finger under the running water. Truth be told she's more upset about the broken plate- there were four in a set with matching bowls and now they're one short- than her injuries. The cut doesn't even look deep and the bleeding is bound to stop soon.

"Let me see."

Ichigo seems to think otherwise as he unceremoniously drops his bags and the heavy groceries by the door, eyebrows furrowing deep as he crouches down next to her, inspecting her wound.

Though calling it an inspection may have been a stretch.

He barely even glanced at it before he's hollering at her to stay put while he grabs the first aid kit.

"You're being ridiculous! It's just a cut!"

He should know better- what with his experience of violence and theoretical knowledge as a future physician. She's been through worse. They both have. Cuts that are deep enough to see gaps of bones in between, torn ligaments, broken bones, ruptured organs, a fist through the stomach- the memory makes her shudder now more than ever. He shouldn't be fussing over her for a flesh wound that barely registers on her scale of pain.

But he doesn't let go of her hand and merely grunts when she calls him a fool for making a big deal out of something as trivial as this.

"It'll heal quick. I don't s-"

She hisses, surprised by the sudden sting of antiseptic over broken skin. His gesture is uncharacteristically apologetic when he presses a kiss to her knuckle.

.

It doesn't make sense.

She's suffered much, much worse in her line of duty. He knows she has and she has survived, grew stronger and thrived. With every cut and blow that aims to knock her down, she rises up, bloodied and valiant to meet the next challenge. Yet she doesn't think she has ever seen him quite so serious, cleaning her cut and dwarfing her hand in his like she's soft, fragile like glass and twice as likely to break. Lord knows that she has never been neither of those things.

"I'm sorry. We don't have any bunny plasters but Yuzu left some Hello Kitty plasters in the first aid kit the last time she restocked it for us and I think you'd like them- _why are you crying?_ "

Tears.

She can't remember the last time she felt them running down her cheeks. Have they always tasted so salty?

Through the burn of them, she sees his panicked face. His fists clench tight and grip at her as he holds her- shuddering breath and all, waiting for her to still and quiet so she can tell him who to hurt and who to maim.

This _idiot!_

Look at what he's reduced her to- this teary-eyed walking bundle of hormones who tears up because her boyfriend/baby daddy gave her some Hello Kitty plasters when she cut her finger.

_"I'm pregnant, you dolt."_

Ichigo wears his heart on his sleeves and the vulnerability on his face- the sheer multitude of emotions- shock, awe, joy, love, above all, love- when he absorbs the impact of the news and embraces his new reality is enough to make even a hardened warrior like her choke on the waterworks.

His eyes widen and the grip on her tightens as he presses her deeper into his embrace.

"H-How long?"

"It's early."

She thinks she's barely passed the sixth week mark.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted to!"

Her hands fist at his clothes. She has lost count of the number of times when she wanted to reach for his hand under the covers as they spooned against each other and whisper it soft and slow into the night and put it to rest.

But every time she wants to open her mouth and speak, doubt makes her swallow those words whole because-

.

_What if this isn't what he wanted?_

.

This isn't something that they've planned for and she is too in love with the tranquillity of the moment, the peaceful look on his face, smiling at her- like she makes this life worth living for, to even consider ruining it. Is it wrong for her to think that the news can wait for another day if only to make tiny beautiful moments like these last a little while longer?

"…There just doesn't seem to be a right time to tell you."

He deadpans, "and you think now is the perfect time for us to have this conversation?"

There are soap suds in her hair, dirty dishwater stains on the front of her shirt. He has dark circles under his eyes, stinks of alcohol sanitizers, looking tired like he hasn't slept well for days. In the background is a precarious mountain pile of dishes to be washed waiting in the sink, shattered pieces of a broken dinner plate on the kitchen floor that still needs to be swept away.

Them in the comforts of their own home- the very essence of their domestic mundanity stripped down to the bones- messy, loud, less-than perfect; but at its heart, once the initial embarrassment of her housekeeping skill or the lack-there-of passes, is love.

.

She sighs, resting her forehead against his chest. "This is all your fault. This would have never have happened if you listened to me when I told you it's your turn to do the dishes."

"You could have waited?" he challenges, "You know class ends early for me today."

Rukia rolls her eyes as she informs him rather drily, "We ran out of clean plates two days ago."

Laughter rumbles low and throaty from him, his heartbeat thrumming steadily from his chest- a symphony strung along with bits of heart and soul, hopes for tomorrow that sooth her.

When the laughter dies, he buries his face in her hair, soaking up the warmth of her tiny body with his. He holds her, drawing lazy circles on the skin of her bare arm, tentative as he asks.

"Rukia. Were you afraid that I'd be disappointed? Or angry?"

She squirms in his arms, ashamed almost when she tells him, "A little of both."

A snort followed by a fond exasperated "Idiot. I love you and I promise to love you and to love our child forever and always and-" his breath catches, his world whirling, and he's looking at her like she's made of starlight and moon dust and- _"you're carrying our baby!_ "

The hard lines on his face soften, his hands clearly shaking and the disbelief from the happiness that threatens to leave him in tears as he presses kisses to her- " _We're going to have a baby._ "

The heat of his open palm is reassuring on her still-flat stomach. She smiles, mirroring his joy, and keeps his hand there, holds it in place with her own.

"We're going to have a baby."

.

There is never going to be a right time she realizes.

But that's ok.

It's ok if he's there with her, holding her hand through it all. As long as he's there with her, she thinks, she is brave enough to do anything. They can take on the world and be none the wiser for it.

He is her rock and he grounds her. Now more than ever when her soul feels light enough that she just might float away.

.

.

"As far as your brother is concerned, this baby is conceived immaculately. Agreed?"

She snorts and kisses his forehead. As if Nii-sama is the person he should be worried about!

Clearly her absentminded idiot is forgetting about his overly enthusiastic father and the man's over-the-top antics and flair for drama during the bi-monthly Kurosaki family dinners, scheduled to happen sometime this week.

Rukia humours him anyway. He'll catch on soon enough.

"Agreed."

.

.

.


	2. The Happy News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day **12** of Ichiruki month 2020
> 
> Apart from the morning sickness, hormone-induced crying, the shrinkage of her bladder, Rukia thinks she's got this pregnancy business covered. What she didn't realize was how overprotective Ichigo was going to be over her and the baby.

.

A wise man once said, there is never a dull day in Seireitei. The fact that it rhymes is inconsequential but clearly it shows that even wise men can have a sense of humour too.

But back to the topic of Seireitei, the city is lively and thriving, a place where things are always happening, the afterlife Tokyo so to speak and it takes guts and sheer will to carve out an existence here.

It takes a certain pride to walk down the streets of this glittering city of white and know that you belong there. From rubbing shoulders with Shinigamis, bearing witness to nobles behaving badly and of course surviving possible calamities be it by way of local thugs, Hollow attacks, an invasion from otherworldly forces or a military coup d'état, the little folks of Seiretei will tell you that they've seen it all. And that level of confidence makes even the most ordinary of souls hold their heads up a little higher, walk a little taller when compared to some country bumpkin from say the lower districts of the Rukongai.

These days, things have mostly seemed to calm down after the Quincy Invasion as the rebuilding effort is slowly but surely underway. Yet today seems to mark a different sort of commotion on the streets and the common people clear a wide berth for them as they pass.

After all it's not every day that you see the fabled heroes of the realm- the Kuchiki Princess and her orange-haired Ryoka companion wandering down the streets together.

Well… the common folks digress; maybe it would be less of a public spectacle if said woman isn't currently carried in the arms of her man like a newly-wedded bride. The older generation (the general rule of thumb here is that Seireitei Old is the kind of old that's older than sliced bread and probably twice as mouldy) is scandalized and rightfully so.

Is that a hint of ankle showing from the venerable lady? And gasp—

_She's not even wearing a wedding band!_

Are the two lovebirds _eloping?_ Right down the streets of Seireitei itself?

How _deliciously_ scandalous!

Just when they thought they had seen it all!

.

.

"Put me down! People are staring!"

She is pregnant, just past her first trimester (Isane was able to confirm it just minutes ago), not an invalid- something she is keen to remind a certain stubborn idiot repeatedly over harsh whispers and angry glares but to no avail.

This is getting ridiculously out of hand.

Last week, he officially banned her from Hollow-hunting and now this? She has got to start drawing the line somewhere.

"I can walk just fine on my own. Put me down!"

His grip on her tightens. There's a hint of panic in his voice that has she rolling her eyes in response.

"But you're tiny and there are so many people around. What if someone runs into you and knocks you over?"

Her eyebrow twitches. She's petite but not _that_ tiny and seriously, who in their right mind would want to bump into her? As if people don't already recognize her as a seated officer by her badge and him by his colourful hair?

Rukia huffs, hiding her face in the crook of his shoulder as her boyfriend insists on carrying her in his arms through the busy streets. She could feel the weight of all those eyes on her and this level of attention is frankly embarrassing.

She rues the day she ever thought it would be a good idea for them to visit Nii-sama in person to deliver the happy news. Clearly she has forgotten to take into account how overprotective the idiot is going to be over her.

"Well can't you at least _shunpo_ us to the Kuchiki Manor?"

"But Rukia, we don't know how it's going to affect the ba-"

"The baby," she hisses, her voice a little shriller than normal as her patience runs thin, "is going to be just _fine!_ You on the other hand, are sleeping on the couch tonight if you don't do as I say **_right now_**."

Silence and then a beat later, she could almost swear that he's pouting.

"Fine!"

.

.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: **overprotective**
> 
> :D tell me that Ichigo wouldn't go 200% overprotective over his pregnant 'wifey' and firstborn. Go on, **I DARE YOU!**


	3. Sleepless Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day **13** of Ichiruki month 2020
> 
> There's a life growing inside of her. Ichigo's useless at sensing _reiatsu_ but even he feels it- the _reiatsu_ of their firstborn pulsing steadily from her.

"Ichigo, wake up!"

He groans, turning to his side as Rukia grabs him by the sleeve of his shirt and tugs.

"Ichigo, you dolt! You're going to miss this. Wake up!"

He frowns. In his dreams it's just him and Rukia basking in the sun. The press of her lips feels so soft against his and if he tries hard enough he could –

.

"It's the baby."

.

That gets his attention and in a matter of seconds, he's scrambling to sit upright, awake (though barely just). Protective instincts shot to overdrive- eyes wild for imaginary enemies, hidden threats lurking just beyond the shadows; sleep-addled senses reaching for a non-existent sword by his side- the panic in his voice ringing sharp as he looks at her.

"Baby? What about the baby?"

Rukia's eyes are a cross between violets and midnight blues in the darkly-lit bedroom and as she presses his hand to the bump, soft smile curling at her lips, Ichigo swears he has never been more in tune with the ebb and flow of the _reiatsu_ surrounding them, of the red ribbons of fate curling from her end towards him, binding them together; keeping them in place.

"The baby's kicking."

He blinks. And there it is.

Right beneath his fingertips, the tentative feel of something new and beautiful reaching out from within- it unfurls rather hesitantly at first, as if unsure and almost fearful of rejection, but as he sends out his own as a flare of greeting- the tendril latches on and coils about him.

There is no face to him yet but Ichigo feels it in his bones. His son is there- growing strong, sustained by his mother's love and nurture and the familial bond between father and son burns golden and bright.

Half of his and half of Rukia's- as is factually true: 23 chromosomes from each parent to make up the genetic component of their offspring; but scientific facts mean nothing when he is confronted with the real thing- the tender brush of his child's spiritual power against his own, echoing both of his mother's unparalleled selflessness and of Ichigo's own yearn to protect.

He gulps, looking at Rukia with his heart so full of awe and love that he finds himself choking on the swell of his emotions.

"T-Thank you."

.

.

_Thank you for this life you have given me._

_Thank you for loving me._

_Thank you for choosing us._

.

.

He grips her tight.

Sleep is now the furthest thing on his mind as he presses reverent kisses to her. How radiant she is, the glow of motherhood that lights up her eyes, the soft swell of their child growing within her. How incredibly blessed he is to be the father of her child, to be able to call her his and to hold her in his arms in the dead of the night while the world sleeps.

He loves her and their child and for them, he is willing to do anything- break every bone in his body and charge through a thousand blades a thousand times over if need be, if it would keep them safe and happy.

"I love you so much," he whispers. Her reply seems almost brusque by comparison- a roll of her eyes and snorting before she leans in to brush their lips softly against each other and tells him, "I know."

Ichigo holds her a little tighter, feeling her lean into him. There is never a shred of doubt on his mind that her love for him and their unborn child burns fierce and steadfast.

They fall asleep like that- tired bodies curled next to each other with Rukia's head resting against his chest.

.

.

In the morning, Ichigo is the first to wake.

The warmth from Rukia's sleeping body is home and love, as is the unexpected flare of _reiatsu_ from his son- one of wakefulness and tentative greeting; an acknowledgement in recognition of sorts as their bond hums soft and tender in the dawn of the morning light.

He is smiling as he turns off his morning alarm, pressing a kiss to the top of Rukia's head and quietly interlacing their fingers together over the baby bump before drifting back into sleep with her hand in his.

.

.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: **sacrifice**
> 
> Poor baby daddy Ichigo is sacrificing his sleep but he wouldn't miss this for the world.


	4. Cravings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day **7** of IR week: Ichigo appreciates that Rukia is going through some changes but this predilection for strange food combos _can't_ be healthy.

The TV plays softly in the background- white noises to fill the silence while they cuddle on the couch.

Ichigo will be the first to admit that he doesn't have the faintest idea what's playing on the screen. His attention is pleasantly occupied elsewhere as he plays with Rukia's hair, sliding his fingers through her thick hair, marvelling at the silky smooth texture while the other is protectively held on the baby bump.

At thirteen weeks, the bump is barely showing but on Rukia's petite figure, the world will just have to suck it up and learn to deal with his mush because he happens to think it's the most _adorable_ thing that he has ever seen!

They are having a baby together and even now, the novelty of it all hasn't quite worn off yet. Part of him is still in disbelief, thinks himself unworthy even of what he has been given- this new life he's building with Rukia. A little bit of his and a little bit of hers melded and shaped into something new and wonderful.

They're going to be so happy. A happy little family of three- protected, loved, cherished; his world. The thought fills him with a surge of emotions so thick and syrupy that he can't help but smile. The grin inevitably widens when he senses a tentative brush of _reiatsu_ from his son in response.

He can't wait for the day when he finally gets to hold his son- this new life their love and bond has created. Can't wait to see what the colour of his eyes are, to see if he's inherited his outrageous shock of orange hair or if he takes after his mother more.

Ichigo knows he's going to love him the same regardless.

He leans in; hoping to steal a kiss from Rukia but changes his mind at the last minute.

He gulps, eyes narrowing at the sight of her happily digging into her after dinner _snack._ The melted chocolate from the Mars Bar stains her fingers as she picks at the platter of crispy bacon rashers. The doctor and responsible boyfriend in him, is cringing.

This is packed full of sugar, fat and grease, things that he is sure no pregnant woman should be binging on. Despite repeated reassurances from Rukia that she's fine, that the sweet crunch of the chocolate bar is _heavenly_ with the salty bacon, Ichigo still doesn't think it's healthy.

A few days before it was raw onions- _urghhh,_ he shudders; just the smell of it on her breath! He loves his midget to bits but that night, he made her brush her teeth twice before he would even _consider_ getting close enough to kiss her goodnight.

He thinks he's noticing a trend and for all the medical texts he's been reading up on, all that he knows about pregnant women and their strange food cravings, it's starting to unnerve him.

But how can he say no to her?

One look from her and he's putty; throw in another teary-eyed statement of how _It's not me! It's the baby!_ or the new favourite _I'm carrying your child here! How can you be so heartless?_ —

Suffice to say that Ichigo is worried sometimes that he might not live long enough to see his baby born, not with all this psychological trauma and guilt-tripping Rukia is trying to put him through.

.

" _Ichigo!_ Are you even listening to me?"

"Uh-huh."

He answers instinctively. After what feels like a lifetime of shin-kicking and elbow nudges- let's face it, Rukia has _really_ sharp _and_ bony elbows- even Ichigo would learn to pick up a thing or two: where possible **always** feign attention. Rukia _hates_ being ignored!

" _Oh really?"_

At the receiving end of her glare, Ichigo gulps, attempts subterfuge or some form of distraction with a press of his lips to her forehead.

"Of course!"

"Then you'll know _exactly_ what I am talking about and you agree wholeheartedly, don't you?"

Her tone sets off the alarm bells in his head. He remembers belatedly the last time he tried to bluff his way through something similar he somehow gained a gigantic life-size Chappy plush and a sizeable dent in his wallet for his trouble.

When will he ever learn?

Nothing good can come out of him trying to outsmart Rukia. It'll be a miracle if he succeeds and even if he does, the price is usually much steeper than what he's prepared to pay. Half the time, he can't be sure if he's only succeeded in digging a deeper hole for himself.

Cold sweat slides down his back but it's too late for him to back down now.

"Ichigo?"

Rukia is still waiting for a reply. Apparently silence isn't the solution as his midget pouts and huffs, crossing her arms while she tries her best to squirm her way out of his arms.

"You weren't _really_ listening to me just now, were you?"

The clock is ticking. Ichigo knows he will need to give her a satisfactory reply soon or risk getting the dog house treatment. The couch is okay but he would much rather be snuggling in bed with Rukia and the baby.

" _I knew it!_ "

The accusation and sudden loss of body heat makes him hiss. He backtracks, reaching after her, trying desperately to salvage the situation.

"Don't be silly! Of course I was!"

"Then why were you hesitating?"

"That's because—"

"You can't even pretend to pay attention to me anymore! I'm fat and-and _round_. Y-You—" her voice suddenly dips low in warning, a hitch in her breath as she chokes "—you don't love me anymore!"

Ichigo realizes a little too late that he's in much deeper shit than he initially thought. The burst of sniffles and tell-tale signs of moisture gathering behind her eyes catches him off guard and has him scrambling to do damage control as he tries to sooth her and talk her down.

"Rukia! Calm down! You know that's not true! This is the hormone talking. There's no need to be so dramatic—"

" _Dramatic?"_

He bites his tongue at the sound of her screeching. It is clearly the wrong thing to say as violet eyes glare daggers at him. He should have just kept his mouth shut!

" _Oh_ I'll show you _dramatic!"_

Rukia gets up so suddenly that Ichigo doesn't even have the reflexes to catch her before the bedroom door slams shut with a loud bang.

"Have fun sleeping on the couch tonight!"

Ichigo sighs, running a hand through his hand, unsure whether to laugh or to cry. He just can't win!

He is convinced it's all that extra sugar in her diet that's caused this. Come tomorrow, he's hiding all the junk food in the apartment and replacing them with something healthy like carrot sticks.

Pregnant Rukia and her mercurial mood swings will be the death of him!

.

.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: **Are you even listening to me? Uh-huh**


End file.
